


Suspiciously, Suddenly, I-

by YumeNoTsuzuki (Yumejin)



Series: Harrymort Prompts [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Deductions, Kissing, M/M, Seduction, Tom can be very... persuasive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-27
Updated: 2013-04-27
Packaged: 2017-12-09 15:30:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/775810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yumejin/pseuds/YumeNoTsuzuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There is a 70% percent chance that you are the new Dark Lord, Voldemort," Potter says calmly from the shadowed corner of the library. It takes Riddle a moment to process the words, because he has never seen the younger wizard speak to anyone in the last five years they have attended school together. </p><p>Prompt fill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suspiciously, Suddenly, I-

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IsysSkeeter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsysSkeeter/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [IsysSkeeter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsysSkeeter/pseuds/IsysSkeeter) in the [HarryMort_Prompt_Night](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HarryMort_Prompt_Night) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> something based on this pic:  
> https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=529451633743427&set=o.119888841428520&type=1&relevant_count=1&ref=nf  
> (L says: '20% likely that you are kira' while Light looks at him angrily  
> Light kisses L on the cheek  
> L with admired eyes '15% kira...' and Light's mouth open  
> Light kisses L on the mouth  
> L blushing deep red '5%' while Light's wins a smirk and rubs his hands together evilly  
> Light jumps on L  
> L scream from the floor 'There is no kira!')

Tom’s eyelids were almost fluttering shut. He’d been in the library for _hours_ and so far hadn’t much success in memorizing any of the latin texts which were beginning to blur together in front of his eyes. Between the meetings of the Knights of Walpurgis, prefect duties and classes, he hadn’t had time to sleep long enough and it was beginning to get to him. He was running late with his latest Charms project – a variation of the Protean Charm, used to link objects together under one spell. He’d been trying to tweak it to suit his needs for weeks, but spell manipulation still remained just out of his grasp. He’d work it out soon enough, but he’d need more time to put his mind to it. He sighed, resigning himself to another night of unsuccesful study. Maybe he'd have better luck tomorrow, if he can get enough sleep tonight.

“I have enough evidence to prove there is 70% of a chance you are the new Dark Lord that’s been killing Muggleborns right under the Ministry’s nose,” a low, soft voice announced calmly from somewhere vaguely to his right. He snapped his head to look at the person accusing him, heart suddenly beating fast.

“Potter,” he snarled with distaste after a second, recognising the shadowy silhouette in the corner between bookshelves. That unruly mop of messy black hair and the glint of large, round glasses was recognisable anywhere.

It took him a moment to process what the boy had said, partially because he’d never heard Potter speak to anyone in the whole five years they have attended school together. That and nobody in the school dared talk to him without a good damn reason to anymore.

“Riddle,” Potter inclined his head slightly in what could be described as a nod but could as well pass as a habitual stretch of the neck. He emerged from the shadows and slinked silently into a seat on the opposite side of the table.

He was looking up at Riddle (who was considerably taller) from behind those ridiculous glasses with an intense mixture of fascination, curiosity and apprehension. It was quite refreshing, not to be stared at with fear, but the young heir of Slytherin was too busy trying to figure out Potter’s intentions to be appreciating his, admittedly pretty, green eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said smoothly, closing the book in front of him with a slam just a little too loud for the dead quiet of a night in the library.

“Really,” Potter quipped with an odd twitch of his lips. Riddle briefly wondered when the boy had grown a pair, because as far as he knew the younger wizard had barely exchanged more than two words with anyone in the entire school and now he was suddenly speaking up against the 'rising Dark Lord'. For some reason, Potter was popular in the school. He was Gryffindor’s quietly brilliant mascot – a Pureblood child of the well known Potter and Black union, as skilled academically as he was at flying. Even though he seemed to be eternally avoiding eye contact with anyone, people flocked to him like moths to flame.

It had always infuriated Riddle. They’d competed in tests over the last couple of years and despite the two year difference in age, the avoidant boy seemed more than capable of scoring the same as him if not occasionally higher. He’d tried to talk to Potter a number of times, even to get a rise out of him to get him into trouble, but nothing seemed to phase the young prodigy. He usually just shrugged him off an vanished out of sight. He didn’t seem interested in much of anything, which puzzled the ever-ambitious Slytherin.

“Alright, what proof do you have?” Riddle risked asking, leaning over slightly, eyes narrowed and suspicious.

“I've stored away memories of your conversations around the school. Notes you’ve passed on to your… _Knights_ ,” Potter chuckled a little at that, making Riddle scoff. He’d known the name would have to go eventually, but it wasn’t _that_ bad, was it? “I have a few confessions of coercion and blackmail from students too.”

The boy seemed calm, not at all like was accusing him. More like stating a fact, but it really only annoyed Riddle more. How could he be so casual about this? The Slytherin’s entire career and life were on the line here.

“Impossible,” he sneered. It was a bluff, but a good one. He _had_ been careful.

“You’re not as subtle as you think,” Potter said as though he’d anticipated Riddle’s reaction in advance. “I’m curious though. Do you put yourself at risk on purpose?” He titled his messy mop of a head to the side, eyes wide and seemingly innocent.

Riddle’s jaw clenched almost painfully.

“Of course not,” he bit out, growing quickly impatient with this conversation. His wand was just in his sleeve…

“Don’t.” Potter warned, his eyes narrowing just a little. Riddle wasn’t buying his innocent, quiet façade any longer. The kid was smart, observant and sneaky. Why he wasn’t in Slytherin was beyond him. He can’t have tricked the Sorting Hat…? He had underestimated Potter though. He’d let his guard down, thinking he’d had everyone in the school figured out. He’d been careful around the teachers, knowing he couldn’t control them – well, other than Slughorn, the old fool.  “I have taken certain measures to ensure to my safety while I speak to you. If you try anything, the Ministry will know.”

“I see.” Riddle furrowed his brows in concentration, focusing all his brainpower to get a read on Potter. The boy was smart, he’d begrudgingly admit, but he was _smarter._ “So, you want to turn me in?” He decided to go in for the attack. As good a move as any other at this point.

“I might,” Potter sounded genuinely contemplative for a moment. “I’ll admit, I first set out to catch the rising Dark Lord purely for my own gain,” he admitted without a hint of hesitation, it almost shocked Riddle how easily he admitted to it. “But then I became curious. You’re quite brilliant, you know.” Potter’s burning gaze was unwaveringly studying him for any weakness; Riddle could feel it crawling all over his skin.

“I know,” he nodded with a cocky grin. “But you’re not bad, yourself.” Riddle didn’t really know what had possessed him to switch tactics so suddenly. He felt suddenly uncomfortable under the green eyes’ scrutiny. Potter’s unexpected assault on his position was a welcome intellectual challenge, but the close proximity and the quiet staring were…

“Unnerving,” Potter said suddenly, startling Riddle again. He checked his Occlumency shields quickly, fearing that the brat was reading his mind. “How easily obsessed I get with things that catch my interest,” he continued almost casually. Riddle exhaled shakily, this wasn’t going at all how he’d liked it to. Then the boy picked something out of his pocket. A ring, with carvings in it. Rune carvings. It was his Charms project from the previous year!

“I stole it from the professor before the summer holiday,” Potter shrugged, twirling the little thing in-between his fingers. “It’s quite ingenious. I’d never would have thought to charm it to return to the owner’s pocket the next day, should it ever get lost or stolen.”

“I’m sure you’d have figured out something equally interesting,” Riddle replied somewhat tersely, not intending to make it a compliment, even though it certainly was one. Potter’s lips quirked upwards a little.

“What are you trying to achieve, Riddle?” he asked in that calm tone again, but his eyes sparkled with curiosity.

“Haven’t you figured it out by now?” The Slytherin heir smirked mirthlessly, still tempted to hex the boy into oblivion.

“Of course I have. Every ‘Dark Lord’ wants the same thing, though they use different means to achieve it. I’d like to hear it from you, though.” Potter’s head was tilted to the side curiously again.

Riddle remained stubbornly silent.

“Never admit anything aloud, huh?” Potter smiled then. “Good tactic.”

“Hm.”

Riddle was still trying to figure out why Potter hasn’t turned him in yet. He clearly wasn’t doing it for the greater good or any such rubbish, but he didn’t seem supportive of him either. Maybe there’s something he wanted to use him for, but then why wouldn’t he have made a demand by now? This isn’t how blackmail works. You don’t sit around chatting with the person about how fascinating their class project from last year is. So what’s his angle…

Potter hadn’t even hinted at anything besides how interesting Riddle is. Maybe it’s something specific to him that the boy wants. His position? Power? No, he could easily achieve that on his own. Friends, followers? He surely didn’t need any, there are plenty of people lining up to be Harry Potter’s minions already, he actually seemed to have trouble getting rid of them.

There wasn’t much left to eliminate now.

“70 percent?” Riddle mused with an easy smile curling his lips. Potter looked a little surprised at that. The wide-eyed look with his mouth slightly open suits him.

The Slytherin wasted no more time and leaned over the table to capture the other boy’s soft lips with his own, swallowing a surprised gasp from Potter.

“How about now?” Riddle murmured, letting his tongue slide out to caress Potter’s open mouth with practiced ease. Potter looked awestruck, there was even a blush creeping up his cheeks and he involuntarily let a small moan escape his throat. They parted for breath and the younger wizard _shivered._

“50 percent,” he said after a moment, his voice broken and strained. Riddle needed no further encouragement. Potter’s mouth was delicious and he kissed as though his life depended on it. He sucked in Tom’s tongue desperately, easily letting him in-between his parted lips.

Riddle broke away to walk around the table to get comfortable, sitting on its edge and leaning over Potter. He really rather liked the mindblown look on the Gryffindor’s face, it was so unguarded and honest and an invitation to sin.

“30 percent,” Harry said, as though he needed any more incentive. He was fairly confident he’d bought the younger wizard the moment they locked lips anyway. He has that effect on people.

Riddle dove right in, this time letting his hands join the exploration of Harry’s body and if the Gryffindor had any objections, it certainly wasn’t showing. He was breathing erratically into Tom’s mouth, lips swollen with kisses, his body relaxed and practically melting under his touch.

“I think Voldemort is all just a part of your imagination, love,” Riddle purred into Harry’s ear seductively, noting how it made the other boy shiver and moan.

“Yeah,” Harry blurted out breathlessly, eyes rolling backward as Tom's right hand travelled vaguely downwards.

Riddle could have talked his way out of this, like he always had, but this is easier and _so_ much pleasurable. He was also pretty sure he could make the younger wizard forget all about his little investigation by morning.


End file.
